


Joyeux Noel

by BadHidingSpot



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 08:09:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5532059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadHidingSpot/pseuds/BadHidingSpot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from steamcurious: Isaac returns from France on Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Joyeux Noel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [steamcurious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/steamcurious/gifts).



> Not edited! Gah! I really ought to start doing that.

Scott smelt Isaac before he saw him. He was confused because he knew that smell, knew it like blood or basil or freshly baked cookies, but then how could it be? He thought that maybe he was wearing an old shirt of Isaac’s. Something he had picked up randomly from his drawers and hadn’t notice was covered in his scent until just then. But that was unlikely. Scott hadn’t thrown any of Isaac’s clothes out, even Melissa hadn’t tried to go through the second bedroom to clean it up. What if he came back? What if he needed shirts when he came back? He hadn’t sent for them. He hadn’t sent for anything. This led Scott to believe that maybe, in France, Isaac didn’t need anything he’d left in the McCall house in Beacon Hills. Nothing was at all worth keeping.  
But it was Isaac who rang the doorbell his hands and body trembling from cold. That scarf was evidently just fashionable and not at all functional. It was Isaac who respectfully asked Melissa if he could come inside, and Isaac who stamped the mud and frost off of his feet before coming it. It was all Isaac in scent and look and deed. Scott struggled with his own door wanting to run down and see him but also being angry. Such an anger he hadn’t felt since his dad rolled back into town and explained his absence. Why bother explaining? None of it gave back that time.  
But Scott did not wrestle with it long. He opened his door, and ran down the stairs, and when his mother pulled herself out of her own hug to Isaac to make way for Scott’s. It was Isaac. He couldn’t be mad at Isaac who had his own way of dealing with things and his own reasons for leaving to not deal with things here in Beacon Hills. Maybe Chris had been the person he needed to be with for that time of grieving. Isaac was probably who Chris needed too. And Scott knew that in all of his own turmoil of Allison’s death he had had Melissa and Stiles and Kira and Derek and Sheriff. But if Isaac had stayed he would have only had Scott and he would have felt like his own pain could not amount to that of Scott’s and so he shouldn’t have a right to feel it. Scott also knew, during that embrace that could only have been less that half a minute but felt like ages worth of un-hugged embraces catching up to each other, that no matter what he would have said he could not have convinced Isaac that his pain was allowed.  
But to be alone in a place with just Chris and to be able to spill his mourning out before the man who had been a father first and a hunter second and could, maybe through Isaac, feel like a father again, that was what was best for Isaac. Scott had wanted what was best for Isaac.  
“You’re back?” Scott asked pulling oh-so-slowly away from Isaac to look into his tear stung eyes. Isaac nodded and then moved to cover his face to hide his sobbing.  
“Oh baby,” Melissa cooed coming to wrap her arms around him. “You’re home. It’s okay. You’re home.” And this permission to call the McCall house his home and to be welcomed into it was enough happiness and grief tied into one that Isaac sank to his knees and cried into Melissa’s stomach for a long time. Scott stood behind him and stroked his hair. His bed was made for him and his clothes washed and hung. He still had a toothbrush in the bathroom and his name on the chore wheel. He knew also that he still had a spot in Scott’s bed tucked into him under his arm and clinging so closely he might break the alpha. He had presents under the tree and a stocking had been made and hung for him. Melissa made him hot cocoa in his favorite mug and remembered to put an ice cube in it because he’d want it right away but not too hot. The house did not feel as if he had never left. No the weight of his long absence was everywhere: in the walls and stairs and little nicks, scrapes, and changes that had occurred while he’d been gone. After all, change marches forward. But it was just like that they had always expected him to come back. This was strange to him. Isaac himself had not expected to come back. He might have stayed with Chris or tried to find a new pack with a new alpha. But then there was no pack or no alpha if it was not Scott’s pack and Scott. But they had known somehow that he would return. Or maybe they hadn’t known, maybe they had just hoped so deeply they couldn’t bring themselves to think anything else. This was almost just as sad, just as heartwarming and just as breathtaking, that they hadn’t been sure of anything but their own wants to have him there with them. They had wanted him there more than they had wanted certainty of his return. He was Isaac, their Isaac, but free to leave and not come back if he wanted. But they would always want him.  
“Merry Christmas,” he said through sobs and felt Scott press a kiss to the back of his head. What else was there to say?


End file.
